


The Lowly

by mishkinat



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Long, M/M, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-26 08:47:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30103338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishkinat/pseuds/mishkinat
Summary: A journey through the troubled life of Enjolras, and how he became the leader of the revolutionary group Les Amis de l'ABC
Relationships: Combeferre/Éponine Thénardier, Courfeyrac/Jean Prouvaire, Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoy!!
> 
> Please read the tags for TWs!

He wasn't sure, exactly, what had caused it. One moment he was standing in the Musain rallying his friends and creating a stir for the upcoming protest. The air was electric and everyone was speechless and in awe of the great orator known as Enjolras to most, and Apollo to few. He had caught the eye of Feuilly who in turn raised his glass to him, making Enjolras more impassioned and alive. Everyone was cheering him as he concluded his speech, everyone was adoring him - and he was aware. Slowly, a creeping unease settled in his stomach and everything started to irritate him. His chest felt tight, his clothes felt tight, and he felt a tingle in his scalp that ran down along his spine and before he knew it he was struggling to breathe and his hands shook and why would they not stop shaking?

All that he could do was leave, so he bolted out the door and into the frosty night. 

Enjolras' legs shook as he stumbled down the street. He had aimed for home but he needed relief _now, damnit,_ so he threw himself into the nearest alley and held himself in a ball. Deep breaths, he told himself, although it had been a while since this particular curse had struck him and he was worried that suddenly everything was bad again, and did that mean things were bad for good this time? He shivered and closed his eyes, rocking back and forth in attempt to shut his mind off. Find anything to focus on, _something_.

Time passed, how much he wasn't sure. But slowly his breathing reined back to healthier rates. He was trembling all over with teeth chattering but everything had become numb. He was neither cold nor hot even as the snow fell, he was neither happy nor sad even though he was shaking, and most importantly, he no longer was Enjolras. He would have felt scared if he was inside his mind. Slowly he became aware of approaching footsteps and looked up at a familiar face he loved and couldn't stand at the very same time. Those big green eyes full of worry, those hands clutching Enjolras's coat, those black curls blowing in the wind and catching snowflakes to decorate the man's head like a crown. Grantaire. Enjolras let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"Hey, there. Enjolras." Grantaire knelt down and placed his coat around him. Enjolras's hands met him but his eyes did not. "Let me help you."

Enjolras let out a small gasp, "Nothing feels real, R."

"You're having a panic attack." Grantaire said softly, coming closer to warm the poor man up but careful not to touch.

There was no reply, just a slight nod. 

"What's happened?"

"I don't know. One minute everyone was cheering and the next I just saw-" He cut himself off as the words caught in his throat.

"What did you see?" Grantaire reached closer and slowly placed a hand on Enjolras's arm. The two sat huddled together in the alley, snow gathering on them. Grantaire was shivering but there was no way he would move without Enjolras alongside.

"You don't know me, R. Not really. I'm sorry." Enjolras turned his head to meet Grantaire's eyes, his own blue eyes no longer brought the feelings of a summer sky but a dull choppy ocean. They were beginning to spill tears. 

"Don't apologise. If you are, then I am. There. I'm sorry too!" Grantaire felt his own voice crack.

"I fight with you all the time and made you despise me, even though you say you love me." Grantaire opened his mouth in protest but Enjolras cut him off, "I can't stand the way you idolise me. The way you all do. I know how that must sound..." He placed his face in his hands and small sobs escaped.

Grantaire said nothing, but rubbed Enjolras reassuringly.

"I'm not who you think I am, R. I'm broken really. I used to be a junkie and if I couldn't get high then I'd burn myself to numb the pain." He spat his words through tears, disgust written on his face. He rolled up his sleeve to show evidence of the burns. Grantaire felt his heart plummet and his blood run cold, but he was not going to run from this.

"Enjolras, whatever caused the pain- whatever started all this, I'm here to help you. The ways you coped - the ways I cope...that's all it is. We're just trying to survive. You're human, you are. I know that, really I do. Just let me in." Grantaire spoke soft but pleading.

Enjolras let out a small groan. "Oh, Grantaire. It was my dad - he used to touch - he made me - and he wanted to kill me. I - this is who I am-" His chest wracked and tears ran heavy. Enjolras wasn't sure if he had ever cried like this before. 

Grantaire held the man close and embraced him. Gingerly, he placed a small kiss on top of his golden hair. To his relief this only made him draw closer. 

"Apollo, you say we fight for the lowly and the wretched and the outcast and the despised. I see now, how you feel about yourself. What you think you're worth. Apollo, I've thought the very same things about myself."

Grantaire whispered these words carefully, tears spilling down his cheeks. Enjolras didn't reply but pressed his face into Grantaire's chest.

"We were wrong, Apollo. They may call us these things, they may tear us apart, they may bruise us and stone us. But we are loved -and love - stronger than them. You think I despise you for your passion and your arguments? You think you are worth nothing to me? Listen to me closely, I love you. I love you. The pain is real, but it will never stop me loving you. And when we stand up here in the snow and leave from here to go home and get warm and dry, it will be the first steps into fixing the pain." Grantaire spoke quietly but with passion, some words came out hissed in anger, certainly not at Enjolras, but at the horrifying revelations of this night. There were small echoes of the fiery Musain leader himself in there.

"You're beautiful, R." Enjolras's small voice croaked. The tears had stopped and he was now exhausted, and although the weight was not gone, it had shifted. He was no longer carrying it alone. He met the eyes of Grantaire, who on this night he saw brand new, a hero, a saviour, an Apollo in his own right. 

"We'll do this together." R promised, and taking the other man's hand they stood up. He helped Enjolras to put his coat on properly and wrapped his arm around him as they made off into the snowy night. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire is an angel, Enjolras thinks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :)

"Stay with me tonight, Apollo. You can have my bed, I'll sleep on the couch. I don't think you should be alone." Grantaire had said softly as they started down the street.

The moon was covered by thick yellow-grey clouds that unrelentingly let snow down on them as they braced against the whipping winter winds. Eventually they made it to an old decaying building that most people thought nothing about as they walked past, except for Les Amis who knew it was home to one of their own. As they stood fumbling with the building door handle, the snow stopped. _Typical,_ he cursed whatever deity or system was causing this cosmological joke. Enjolras hadn't said anything the whole walk back, but he was happy to lean on Grantaire for support as his whole body grew weary and he switched to autopilot. Grantaire pushed open the building door and led Enjolras gently ahead of him. In the doorway Enjolras turned back so that he could see Grantaire's beaming smile lit up by the streetlight behind him. Grantaire is an angel, Enjolras thinks as they make their way up the stairwell.

Grantaire fiddled with his keys as he tried to unlock the always temperamental front door. It was very shabby and the pale red paint was peeling, but the silver '13' was polished and shiny. Absentmindedly, Enjolras traced his fingers over it whilst Grantaire heaved and fiddled with all his might. As he was hunched over yanking the handle he caught a glimpse of Enjolras and grinned,

"Unlucky, huh?" He strained, and with a final shove the door shuddered open. Grantaire wiped his hands together and chuckled.

"Maybe not so much, actually." Enjolras smiled back. His eyes were painfully empty but Grantaire suppressed the stabbing feeling in his stomach which arose any time Enjolras was vulnerable or sad or dejected - which to be honest, was not all that often.

They walked into the flat and Grantaire shut the door behind him. In the dark he felt for the switch which, when flipped, didn't do a great job of illumination.

"You paint in here?" Enjolras frowned, squinting.

"Well, you know. Doesn't it just add to the talent?" 

Enjolras gave his best attempt at a lighthearted chuckle but instead a choking splutter came out. His eyes looked grey and glazed over and the poor man was swaying slightly - exhausted. Grantaire led him to a door at the back of the flat which led to his bedroom. Enjolras mumbled something but Grantaire couldn't understand a word. The walking zombie shrugged out of his coat and unbuttoned a few of his shirt buttons and then collapsed on the bed. Almost immediately he was in a deep sleep.

Grantaire stood for a while, the day's events crashing over him like waves in a storm and he was clinging onto the tiny pier wall for dear life. He gazed down at the sleeping man, who for the first time since they had truly known each other, looked at peace. The guardian allowed himself to smile and felt the familiar flutter of his heart, something which happened whenever Enjolras lit up the room, acknowledged him, or was passionate - all things which happened often. He slowly sat down on the bed and reached for Enjolras' shoes which were still tightly fastened and as gently as possible untied the laces and placed them neatly by the bed. Trying to be as ghost-like as possible, Grantaire crept out of the room, but as he was about to leave, a mumble so quiet he was sure he had made it up reached him,

"Thanks, R. I owe you."

He turned back to see sleepy blue eyes in the moonlight and nodded in reply, "I'm here if you need anything." He offered a quick smile and then left before he melted into the floor.

Grantaire returned to the couch, not fully accepting that Enjolras had called him 'R' for the first time since the leader himself had coined it. The Amis had picked it up quickly and adored it along with the continuing development of Enjolras' penchant for puns. But as soon as he had said it, Enjolras disowned it and figured it was not his place to hand out nicknames for someone he was never sure how he stood with. Of course, to Grantaire, at the time this had seemed like a deeper dig at him. R sighed at the revelation of the night and for the first time in a while was full of hope and a sorrow which for once was not his own. He stripped off his clothes down to his boxers and piled them up on the floor, pulled up a blanket to his chin and plonked his head on the couch. As he closed his eyes he realised he had forgotten a very important job. He reached for his phone and decided the best method was to rip the bandage off as quickly as possible with a group text:

**R:** Mes amis! Apollo is safe, he is staying at my place tonight. He had a burst of anxiety and was exhausted. I think he's overworked himself, but thank God he's letting me be nice to him. Goodnight my children - will update in morning

 **Combeferre:** Thank you, Grantaire, so much for letting us know. I've texted Enjolras too. I'll come round in the morning and check on him. - Combeferre

 **Courfeyrac:** OMG so glad, R! Felt so bad for him. U'll do good lookin out for him but plz dont take advantage of my boy, u sly dog. Also Ferre stop signing texts plz 

**Feuilly** : Thanks, R. Will phone after work. On long shift. Give him my best wishes :)

 **Jehan:** Poor love! Never seen him like that before - please give me updates. You're a good friend, R.

 **Bahorel:** You want me to come over, R?

 **Joly:** Dude! You're not a doctor so don't pretend! Thanks, but like...rlly????? Call a professional now!!

 **Bossuet:** Glad you got him. Don't mind Joly.

 **Gavroche:** oh no i can cheer him up ive got some cool things to show him ill come by after lunch itll be rlly cool! sorry hes sad tho tell him i still want to be his pal

 **Eponine:** R u r a good one. Thx so much for keeping us in the loop. Gav go to sleep right now i swear to fuck - u have school in five hours.

 **Marius:** Omg? Are you serious? I didn't know he was upset! I thought the meeting was over. I feel so bad. Can you tell him I'm sorry? Enjolras, I'm really sorry. I really have no idea what's going on right now I'm really freaking out-

Grantaire chuckled and didn't bother to read the rest. He threw his phone on the carpet and closed his eyes. They had good friends. They would get through this. It wasn't R's place to tell Enjolras' story but he felt very privileged that Enjolras had trusted him with it. There was a gnaw at the back of the mind pestering him for forcing Enjolras to be vulnerable with him but sense prevailed for once. He let himself float off to sleep, although his dreams were plagued by the secrets Enjolras had uttered with the most ashamed look in his eyes. R felt anger rise in his chest when he woke up from nightmare after nightmare of the injustices faced by his Apollo. To drift off again he imagined what he would do if he ever met Enjolras' father. In the other room, however, Enjolras slept soundly and dreamless as he was too exhausted after the day's events. Unfortunately though, this would be the last night for a while where he would find peace in his sleep.

When Enjolras awoke, he awoke with a start. The pre-dawn light filtered in through the clunky blinds and spread across the room. The air was eerie, and he had forgotten where he was. The unfamiliar walls plastered with posters and art. The carpet was dirty and stained with splotches of bright colours that looked a bit more muted in this light. Underneath him was a thick blanket which smelled familiar but not in the right context. Cigarettes. Coffee. He blinked and sat up with a jump.

Grantaire.

The previous evening's events flooded back to him with relentless violence. Enjolras grimaced at how vulnerable he had been. And with Grantaire of all people. Enjolras pulled his red coat back on and quickly slipped into his shoes, fingers fumbling over the laces. He sighed.

It wasn't that Grantaire had acted wrongly. In fact, Enjolras' heart was still aglow with affection for the man and the fragments of intimacy which were shared in that horrible conversation. It wasn't Grantaire at all. It was him, the problem was all him. His authority as a leader was now hopelessly diminished and no doubt Les Amis would stare too much or avoid eye contact as meetings resumed. Enjolras was now the focus of pity, and that he couldn't stand. The mask had not only slipped, but fallen, cracked, smashed, and stomped into tiny pieces never to be fixed again. 

He was found out. His dirty secrets.

Panic welled in his chest again, but slowly it gave way to anger as he turned to stare himself directly in a mirror. Reflected back at him was a ghost he had long buried. Before he could think about it clearly and before he could stop it from erupting, he yelled, and it didn't stop. A fist smashed the mirror, and another, and another. Before he knew it he was a vandal in a kind man's home leaving splashes of blood dripping over his fingers and onto the carpet. The anger disappeared without a warning and all that was left was a deep sickly feeling. From the living room he heard shuffling and before he could be found out, Enjolras exploded out of the room and directly into the bathroom. As he slammed the door behind him, he heard fists banging and felt the door squeeze open slightly. With one last shove he managed to turn the lock. 

Safe.

Breathing hard, Enjolras switched on the light and grimaced as he barely registered the pounding on the door and the pleas coming from R's mouth.

"Enjolras! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Enjolras lied, his breath ragged and his voice cracking.

The door stopped rattling and the knocking ceased. All that was left was the thumping of Enjolras' heart in his ears and the sting of his hands.

Grantaire didn't stay quiet long, "Enjolras, please let me in. There's blood out here. What happened? Are you alright?"

Enjolras heard footsteps hurry away and back again.

"Apollo, let me in now. You're hurt."

Enjolras didn't have any time to register his thoughts before the lock snapped and the door jolted open. Before him stood Grantaire with bewildered eyes.

"What the fuck, man?" Grantaire was draped in nothing but a blanket and boxers. His black curls were plastered to the side of his face in sweat and his eyes looked exhausted.

Immediately, Enjolras avoided the man's gaze, "R- I'm sorry." Weak. Weak. Weak.

"Apollo." R suddenly became an angel again, his voice soft and his gaze sweet but not pitiful. Enjolras moaned softly and knew he was defeated and everything he had built of himself was swept away by that damn look.

Without another word, R knelt on the bathroom floor and indicated to Enjolras to copy. Still, his Apollo could not return the gaze.

"Now there's a feeling I know well." R whispered, chucking to himself. He flicked his eyes up to Enjolras, who was staring at his feet. "Shame is a bitch. Been there many times myself. Let's see those hands."

R very softly reached to grasp Enjolras' wrists and inspect the wounds. "You look like you've been in a bar fight. Lucky for you, I've been in a fair few myself."

Grantaire pulled out a first aid kit from a cupboard underneath the sink and got to work. He managed to unpick shards of glass, acutely aware of Enjolras the statue. Enjolras did not tremble, he did not wince, he did not show any sign of pain. Somehow that made it worse.

"I'll be able to wrap your hands like a boxer." Grantaire tried to make a joke that fell flat on ears worlds away. 

"Boxer." Enjolras repeated a solid thirty seconds later. Finally Enjolras returned to his body and dared to glance at R his saviour.

"What happened to cause all this, Apollo?" he whispered.

"The mirror."

Grantaire understood in that moment. Mirrors reflect shame when broken people look into it. So Apollo did what R would. Smash it to pieces. 

"I meant what I said last night." Grantaire started to pack away his things. "I'm here for you. Together. I will never, ever leave you. It's just a bit easier if you let me in. You don't need to hide from me."

"I wasn't hiding from you-" Enjolras blurted out, rubbing his eye with a bandaged hand. His gaze immediately flicked back to R's feet.

It was an unusual sight, Enjolras on the floor like a small child and Grantaire looking down on him.

"Hey, hey. It's a new day coming up. Let's go to the balcony and welcome it in. You can talk or not. It's up to you. But whatever hole you're in, Enj, I'll carry. You've carried me this far."

Enjolras breathed in deeply and sighed, reaching a hand up to R who took it gently to lift him up. Then they stood, face to face. 

Equal was the word that flashed through Enjolras' mind. 

"I-" Enjolras went to talk but chuckled and shook his head. 

"Me too!" R said and turned, his heart fluttering and his skin burning. 

"Sunrise." Enjolras spluttered. Grantaire wrapped an arm around Enjolras' shoulder and led him to the small balcony where the soft glow of the winter sun was beginning to peak over the horizon. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Combeferre steps in

Combeferre pushed his glasses up his nose and went to knock on Grantaire's door but noticed it was already slightly open. His heart started racing, and his mind began to picture scenes of robbery or explosive fights gone wrong. With as light footsteps as he could muster and trembling hands he pushed open the door and moved into the room bracing himself for some assailant - or Grantaire - to attack him immediately.

Instead he almost bowled over laughing in disbelief. He held the cuff of his hoodie to his mouth to suppress the bizarre range of sounds that threatened to spill out.

In front of him, on the couch, Grantaire lay sprawled out shirtless, his head hanging down with an arm around Enjolras who lay half across the couch and half in Grantaire's lap. Draped clumsily over the two sleeping men was a flimsy blanket. It was like a piece of fine art as the early morning sun, now past the fantastic dawn but still casting a beautiful soft light into the room. Combeferre slowly pulled out his phone and snapped a picture, chuckling to himself. Suddenly aware that Grantaire could wake up any second and murder him, Combeferre coughed to show his presence.

The two shot up awake immediately, wide eyed and pale at the sight of Combeferre before calming down.

"Oh fuck! Apollo, your keeper is here - mornin', Ferre! " The unmistakably gravelly voice sung.

And so he shuffled and gave a small, awkward wave.

Enjolras stretched and nodded, acknowledging his dear friend with a small smile.

"Enjolras- your hands-" Ferre's joy suddenly replaced with concern.

Enjolras immediately broke his glance away from Combeferre and hid his eyes behind golden curls.

"It's okay, Combeferre. We fixed that." R gave the medicine student a pleading look. 

"Well," Combeferre approached, smiling again, "I'm glad to see you both!"

"Glad to see you too," Enjolras stood up and embraced Combeferre as if it had been years and not hours since they had last met. Combeferre could instantly see some kind of change had occurred within his best friend but made a solemn and silent promise to not press matters without him being ready. And R, often a wildcard in terms of reliability, had really stepped up to the plate. He felt relief flood through him and revelled in it. 

All three friends stood silently for a moment at first content but then increasingly awkward.

R stood up and yawned loudly, thrusting the blanket aside and revealing himself as almost naked. He smacked Combeferre on the shoulder roughly and with a giant grin said, "So come on then, buddy. Let's see the pics you took earlier! Might get one of 'em framed."

Ferre immediately went red which only caused Grantaire to bellow in laughter loudly. Enjolras snatched Combeferre's phone out of his pocket and, with a giggle rare to both others, leapt to stand on the couch out of grasping hands and looked for the pictures. 

"Any good, Apollo?"

"Oh, indeed. Thanks, Ferre! You have provided our artist friend with inspiration for his next collection." Enjolras tossed the phone back to Ferre but flinched at the pain in his hands as he did.

"I'm so confused." Combeferre laughed as he barely caught it. 

"R set you up, he got me to pose with him in a way he knew you wouldn't resist." Enjolras flopped back down on his seat again, brushing his hair with his fingers.

"And he agreed!" R grinned.

"What have I missed?" Combeferre smiled, wishing Courfeyrac were here.

Combeferre, pure in intention, immediately regretted his words as he saw both of the men's gaze move away. 

The tone in the room changed completely and Ferre was very aware that he had missed something _serious._

"Combeferre, do you want to walk with me?" Enjolras said after a moment. 

"Oh- of course! Sorry-"

"Don't worry about it", Grantaire forced a smile.

"See you later, R." Enjolras spoke with a strange blend of his old firm self and a subtle tone of warmth.

Combeferre and Enjolras walked down the street with the previous night's blanket of snow under their feet. Bursts of breath followed them where they went, and Enjolras was glad for his bandages to keep his hands warm. 

Half way down the street, Enjolras turned and motioned for Combeferre to stop. Enjolras opened his mouth to speak but a lump caught in his throat. He battled away tears before they could fully form and with a deep breath he gazed into Combeferre's brotherly eyes, "I need to go home."

Combeferre drew a shaky breath and pulled Enjolras close to him. He understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment any scenes you'd like to see :)


	4. Interlude

_When Enjolras was five, he moved to a new school - even though he had only been in his first one for three months. However, in the timeline of childhood that is time enough to forge friendships and create bitter enemies. He was leaving his whole life behind him for this new school, and he would be telling lies if he said he was not nervous. It was a school just for boys, which he didn’t particularly like as his best friend before had been his cousin Odette. He was sitting at the breakfast table, staring thoughtfully at his father who only had eyes for the newspaper._

_“Papa, can I take blankey to school?” Enjolras curled his hand around the thin, red, already threadbare blanket he held in his lap._

_His father did not respond._

_Enjolras scrunched up his face and fiddled with his new school tie which was an ugly shade of green. He was wearing a woollen grey blazer and shorts which he would soon realise would not protect him from the biting early December air._

_“You’re running late.” His father said tonelessly._

_Enjolras tilted his head, confused._

_“Go to school, now.”_

_“But Mama walked me there.” He pouted, fear rising in his stomach._

_“Need I say it again?!” His father erupted, storming over to tower over him. He snatched the blanket out of his son’s grip and dragged him by his bright blond curls as aggressively as he could. Enjolras was thrown out of the front door, his blanket dumped in the wet mud of the garden. Before he could turn and apologise, the door was slammed and locked._

_Shivering, he picked up his blanket and walked towards his gate, slipping on the ice a few times. Tears welled in his eyes as he made his way down the street, jumping at every car door slamming or adult staring as they passed him by. He thought he had done something wrong, and so every adult was scrutinising him. The sad truth is, they were wondering why such a small child was walking to school on his own, and in the wrong direction._

_What had he done to make Papa so angry? Eventually he stopped at the end of the road and cried loudly. He was lost, very cold, and had no idea what had happened earlier. He buried his face into his blanket to quieten the sobs which he could not control._

_This moment, though terribly low and pitiful, was incredibly important in Enjolras’ life, as his sorry state attracted the attention of a kindly, plump woman with two boys in tow. Enjolras peeked from behind the blanket and saw two boys wearing the same clothes as he was. One was smaller with a thick mess of curly hair and a massive grin. The other was tall but shy, in fact, his gentle presence seemed to take away any imposing features he had. His hair was scruffy and brown and he wore thick black glasses which Enjolras liked because they reminded him of his imaginary friend, Ami._

_“What’s wrong, dear. Lost your way?” The lovely woman spoke. “This is my son Combeferre, and his friend Courfeyrac. Do you need help getting to school?”_

_Enjolras wiped his face with his blanket and nodded._

_Courfeyrac was one year older, so it was only Combeferre in his class. The teacher looked stern but seemed to not make any rash judgements on Enjolras with his bleary red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. The blanket would be a problem. But that wasn’t for the first day. The teacher made arrangements so Combeferre and Enjolras could sit at the same table, which the small new boy was grateful for as even though they hadn’t talked much, he felt very safe around him._

_“Today, boys, we welcome Enjolras to our class! Everybody give him a welcome.”_

_There was a chorus of ‘hiya’ and waving hands which made Enjolras smile, embarrassed. He brought his blanket up to his chin._

_“So, Enjolras. Why don’t you tell us how old you are, what your favourite colour is, and why you have moved school?”_

_“Umm...I’m five,” he mumbled into the blanket, “Red is my best favourite, and then I came here because Papa said I had to because of the house.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_Enjolras thought and then said, “Well I’m here because we changes houses because Mama is dead.”_

_He didn’t realise that his teacher grew awkward. Most of the other children gasped or laughed, not really understanding the gravity but knew it was different ._

_But Combeferre gave Enjolras a hug and said, “I’m sad for you.”_

_In that moment, Enjolras decided his other friends weren’t important, and this boy was his best friend forever._

_Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and the kind lady walked him home again. He was smiling and giggling to ‘Ferre and Courf as if he had known them forever. He knocked on the door, unable to reach the handle properly. After a couple of minutes of shivering in the cold, his father appeared._

_“Papa, are you sick?” Enjolras gasped. His father looked ill, he was swaying, and he smelled funny. His reply was a sharp pull of the collar and another door slam. Inside he was face to face with his father, who immediately smacked him. In a blur over the next while everything changed in his life.The boy was so confused, so scared, all he could do was bawl and wail. His father was hurting him, grabbing him, doing things he didn’t understand. Afterwards, he crawled under his bed and hugged his blanket, and prayed Combeferre would save him._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ferre and Enjolras have a chat and then go to check on the elephant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!
> 
> AU where the elephant still exists

"Odette phoned me," Enjolras shuffled his feet in the snow and bit his lip. They stood in yesterday's snow as the wind pulled some off the rooftops and brushed their cheeks every so often.

Combeferre stayed silent but turned to face him, willing to wait till the end of time if that's how long it took.

"I...Do you remember, Ferre? When we were eleven."

Combeferre nodded as a stab of pain rushed into his heart but Enjolras continued anyway. 

"I told you all about...him." He was wincing and turning red. He bowed his head and drew a deep breath before suddenly composing himself in a way in which only he seemed to be able to do. "I realised what it had all meant. And then things just sort of," He scoffed and motioned with his hands.

It had gone to shit after that.

"I remember." Combeferre placed a hand on Enjolras' shoulder, "And I was there then and I'm here now. Whatever Odette said, whatever is wrong, mon ami, je viendrai avec toi."

Enjolras smiled a defeated smile and drew in to embrace Ferre. He knew that already, but God was it good to hear it. 

"She's reporting him to the police," he whispered into Ferre's ear before drawing away again.

"We'll deal with it."

"We will."

"Better than before." Combeferre presses his lips into a firm line, his eyes compassionate but unmoving. 

_Yeah, well._ Enjolras thought, _I won't make any promises I can't keep._ Enjolras nodded unconvincingly but that was all Combeferre could expect.

They continued off down the street together, a dreamy air overtaking them. The old buildings looked brand new and the wind whistling round corners felt to Enjolras like mint in ice cold water. There was something growing that he didn't want to acknowledge for fear it would abandon him but it was a spark of hope.

"Courfeyrac, Jehan, Feuilly and I are going to the Corinth tonight, just to catch up. You can come too, if you'd like."

They kept walking for a few moments, Enjolras deep in thought.

"What about the others?" He said eventually.

"R, 'Ponine and Bahorel are boxing. Joly and Bossuet have a...a... _thing_ with Musichetta. Marius and Cosette - Monseiur Valjean is treating them to a dinner and a show. That leaves us."

And after another beat too long, "What about Gavroche?" Combeferre stood dead in his tracks and would have laughed if it were not for the serious look on his friend's face. It was not the norm for Enjolras to concern himself with the going-ons of the child, even if they were all incredibly endeared by him.

"I don't know..." Combeferre trailed off.

"Is he safe? We should check on him, ask if he'd like to join."

Combeferre, a practically omniscient man, knew instantly why and where this was going. But for now he would play along if it was helpful to Enjolras. He made a mental note to chat to Grantaire.

"We can stop by the elephant just now, if you'd like. Although...I'm not sure they will let an eleven year old boy in the Corinth on a Friday evening."

Enjolras scoffed, "Nonsense, Ferre. Of course they will."

Combeferre didn't say anything but grinned as they pressed on down the streets. The two young men were closer than brothers and didn't need to chat idly to enjoy each other's company. Eventually they turned into the grand Place de la Bastille where a rather large and decaying plaster elephant statue stood in the middle. Cars seemed to screech by even louder out in the square and Enjolras wondered how Gavroche ever managed to find comfort in such a busy and rat-infested place. Nonetheless they managed to cross and make their way over to the towering brute of an elephant and knocked on an area only very few in the city knew to knock in order to get the attention of a scrappy young ruffian with an almost permanent smile. 

Said ruffian appeared momentarily, scraggly hair reaching almost to his shoulders and an oversized cap covering most of his head. 

"Hey there, what d'ya need?" He slipped down the elephant and looked up. Enjolras looked sad, he noticed straight away.

"Actually, we were wondering if you were alright." Ferre said rather clumsily.

Gavroche tilted his head like a puppy looking for any trace of a joke, but burst out laughing at the even funnier joke of them _not_ joking. 

"Just because it's snowing, and I was concerned." Enjolras added.

"What's wrong with the snow?" Gavroche said, scooping some up and pressing it into a ball. He took time enough for the two men to move out of the way but neither did, and he _very nearly_ aimed for Enjolras but decided he'd best not so settled for Combeferre's stomach instead. "Thanks for the concern, citizens." He tilted his cap to them with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He went to turn away but was stopped by Enjolras placing a hand on his shoulder,

"Gavroche. Are you staying with your parents again?" 

"No! I-" Gavroche scoffed, "I don't like them."

"Has your social worker-" 

Gavroche cut him off by an incredibly loud eyeroll and laugh.

"What's going on, Apollo?" The smile faded from the child's face as he searched for answers in the man's. That searching glance could have been from Combeferre himself, Enjolras thought fondly.

"It's nothing-not for you to worry about." Enjolras smiled a terrifyingly fake smile in a very poor attempt to appease the child.

"Oh? Why's that?"

"It's nothing for young boys to be worried about." Enjolras flashed Combeferre a terrified look, finding himself in a hole he had completely dug by himself.

Gavroche grinned again and whistled. He leaned against the elephant with his elbow and brushed his finger over his nose and chuckled, taking on the air of an old wise man. "Right, right... Enjolras, I thought you were on my side. No girls, no guys, no messy love life."

"It's not like that!" Enjolras exclaimed, taken aback. 

"Gavroche," Combeferre whispered and shook his head frantically.

The young lad scratched his chin and his mind gawked at the many possibilities on what the hell was going on. 

"Why did you come here? Not that I mind, so it goes, just...this is funny." 

"Do you want to come to the Corinth tonight with us?" Enjolras asked as he would another man, and not in any way Gavroche had been asked to do anything by Enjolras before. 

"Mes amis," Gavroche bowed extravagantly, "It would be my honour." 

And with that, the rascal child clambered back into the elephant 'to get dressed and ready for high society' and the two students left laughing at the bizarre reality that was Gavroche. The boy peeked out a hole in the deteriorating statue as the two men walked away from him. He munched on a chocolate bar he had left underneath a blanket and chuckled to himself, making a mental note to chat to Grantaire later.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Right," Grantaire said, "I'm going to hit this before I hit you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slightly longer chapter for you all today <3 thanks so much for reading
> 
> TWs in tags

Once the two students were far out of sight, Gavroche scrambled to action. He picked up a slightly too large satchel he had stolen from a man who had scorned him and shoved a variety of different objects and trinkets inside where he had originally found them. He slipped on some shoes which were _almost_ his size, and pulled on his coat which Grantaire had bought him. He had loved it instantly, it was a dusty blue colour but its style was similar to Enjolras'...though he'd never tell him that, of course. Shoving a handful of bread in his mouth, and another in his pocket, he got to work. They would all be at the Corinth at around 6pm which gave him plenty of time in the afternoon to hunt down Grantaire and ask him what the hell was going on. So he pulled himself out of the elephant statue and made his way to Grantaire's flat building.

The snow had started to power down as he arrived a sorry drenched sight on Grantaire's doorstep, fist pounding. But when the door opened, Grantaire only saw that familiar beaming smile. 

"Wow!" Gavroche pushed his way in, "It's cold out there."

"Yes, good to see you too." Grantaire chuckled. He automatically went to the kitchen to find a dishtowel and tossed it at Gavroche with such precision it landed as a veil over the boy's head.

He got the message. Gavroche rubbed at his hair furiously until it was no longer dripping but sticking up in every direction. 

"Suits you, little bird."

Gavroche nodded, and flopped onto the couch before noticing his own sister sitting beside him.

"Éponine! How's it been?"

She laughed, "Little of this, little of that." She pulled out a man's wallet from one pocket, and a fancy watch from the other.

Gavroche whistled.

"You're such a bad influence, 'Ponine." Grantaire grinned, sitting down on the armchair nearby with a cup of coffee. It was by now around noon, and it seems he had not long woken up. 

"Speak for yourself," Gavroche smirked, his foot kicking a can of beer from under the table. There was a flicker of hurt in Grantaire's eye but it passed almost immediately and he just shrugged as if to say 'you got me!'

"What brings you here then, little birdie? Don't get me wrong, my abode is a warm home for all the stragglers and wayfarers of the world and you are always welcome, but you look like there's something bothering you." Grantaire tried to be as extravagant as usual in his words but his yawns and stretches softened their usual humour.

"Well," Gavroche sniffed, "You and Enjolras."

Éponine snorted and kicked her legs off the couch, "Right! I've got a call to pretend to make." She announced, disappearing into R's bedroom.

Gavroche gave an almost evil smile, knowing he was about to get some dirt. 

Grantaire smiled sadly until the bedroom door clicked and he settled down his coffee mug on the table.

"What do you mean, me and Enjolras?" He tried not to sound desperate.

"Ferre and Apollo himself came to call on me this morning, inviting me to the Corinth. I'm touched, I am. But," He scrunched up his face, "Well, that's the first time I've had a royal visit. Enjy looks _sad_. And I'm in the group chat now so I saw your text...what's going on?"

Grantaire shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. Why did it have to be Gavroche of all of Les Amis who was so perceptive? It's hard to treat Gavroche as a child, but that's what he is at the end of the day. And at the heart of everything, Grantaire was desperate to preserve something of a childhood for him. And he couldn't tell Enjolras' secret. Not even to Éponine, not to Ferre even though he knew that he knew. It was not his place. 

"Enjolras is sad at the moment, Gavroche. You're right about that. But it's complicated for him. Sometimes things overwhelm him and he feels a bit off for a few days that's all."

"But I never noticed that before. Plus, he wanted me to go to the Corinth with them tonight." He laughed, "That's not our Enjolras!"

"Enjolras likes you," Grantaire was concerned that Gavroche was suddenly experiencing a crisis of confidence.

"Oh I know that," Gavroche laughed, Grantaire letting out a sigh of relief, "It's just not his way to come talk like that."

Grantaire tapped his fingers on his lips for a few moments deep in thought, "I think right now, Enjolras needs the perspective of someone like you."

"A kid?"

"More than that." R smiled.

A twinkle appeared in Gavroche's eyes and they were both content.

\---

"Right," Grantaire said, "I'm going to hit this before I hit you." 

He punched the floppy bag as hard as he could before turning to Bahorel. The whole room stunk of sweat and grimy dust but God did they love it. 

"Sorry, R. You don't need to talk if you don't want." Bahorel was grinning a wide toothy grin, sweat plastered his hair to his face. The expression betrayed the words.

"I'll punch him, R." Éponine did exactly that.

Bahorel laughed, "Come on!"

"I'm not telling you. I'm not." Grantaire shook his head dismissively. 

"Did you kiss and make up?" Bahorel whispered. 

Grantaire punched the bag again. 

"Bahorel, for fuck's sake. I love you like a brother, but you don't know what you're talking about." Grantaire's voice cracked very subtly, but enough for the tone to change.

Bahorel placed a big hand on his shoulder, looked him right in the eye and said, "R, I'm sorry."

Grantaire nodded and smiled and the two shook hands. At that moment R's phone vibrated in his pocket and he fumbled with the glove to take it off and throw it at Bahorel's face and then answered without checking the caller.

"Grantaire? Hey!"

"Ferre?" Grantaire was astounded, he could count on one hand the number of times Combeferre had phoned him. 

"Can we chat?" His voice was serious and firm. 

Grantaire widened his eyes, waved to the others then booted open the fire door to take the call.

"I guess so, what's up?"

"I'm heading down to the Corinth just now. Enjolras invited Gavroche earlier and he seems so concerned about what is going on with him, always asking about him."

"Uh-huh. Gavroche was telling me the same thing."

"Right. Well, I'm worried about him."

"Why?"

Combeferre drew a deep breath, "Well. It's clear to me that he's looking at Gavroche as his own kid self."

"Dude...I don't know I should be talking about this."

"It's okay, R. I know too."

R looked up at the sky and cursed. He was so out of his depth. 

"Well it makes sense, given everything."

"Yes and that's why I'm worried." There was a pause, "It didn't end well the last time he was like this."

Grantaire sighed, "Listen, man. I don't know about all this. Until yesterday I didn't know anything about Enjolras' childhood. I'm glad I do now, but God, it's hard, okay?"

"You're right, it is. But we've got to keep an eye on him- gotta go, he's coming in right now."

Grantaire hung up first and felt tension rising.

Why did everything have to be so damn complicated?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Please kudos or comment to let me know if you'd like me to continue this story :)

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave kudos or a comment if you want to see this continued, or comment any scenes you'd like to see! :) Thank you


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